Page 20 of At the Heart of It
Flipping the folder open, she let her gaze drift to the page on top of the stack. The word confidential was stamped in red ink across the top, and under that, the words Proposed talent budget for Relationship Reboot with Dr. Viv.
She flipped to the page with his name at the top, then turned the folder around so he could see it. Then she looked up to watch his face. The amber-green eyes drifted slowly down the page, back and forth, taking in the information, the columns of numbers she’d seen for the first time only an hour ago.
“Holy shit.” Jonah glanced up and locked eyes with her. “That’s per year, or?—”
“That’s per episode,” she told him, flipping the folder closed. “If the pilot takes off, the network intends to order fourteen episodes in the first season.”
He stared at her. “But that’s insane. That’s more than ten times what I’ve made with On the Other Hand.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted you to see what they’re proposing. This isn’t some third-tier programming on a no-name network. This is prime time, Jonah. The big leagues.”
His hand drifted to the center of his chest and he scratched absently at the edge of one pectoral muscle. Kate ordered herself not to look. Not to let her gaze drop even an inch. Not even for a peek.
“How much do you get?”
Kate swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“Are you being fairly compensated for this as well?”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“What else is in it for you?”
She hesitated. “A chance to do something meaningful. These books—Dr. Viv’s whole outlook on things . . . they changed my life. Changed my outlook on relationships and the way I interact with the world.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s a lot of meaning to ascribe to a bunch of paperbacks you bought for nine ninety-nine on Amazon.”
“I bought them in hardback,” Kate shot back, pretty sure he was trying to distract her again. “Besides, this show would be a big feather in my cap career-wise. A chance to work with my favorite author. Authors.”
He smiled. “That was never really my book. You know that.”
“Your part in it was important. Just because you’re not the one with PhD behind your name doesn’t mean your contributions didn’t touch people.”
Jonah cleared his throat. “Speaking of touching people, why didn’t you tell her?”
She thought about pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. But asking “Who?” or “What?” would just be a forestalling mechanism or a game, and she was too old for that.
“I didn’t tell Viv about the kiss because it seemed irrelevant.”
“Beeeep!” he shouted, making the dog’s ears prick to attention. “Incorrect answer. Try again.”
She sighed. “Is this one of your spy-catching techniques from the Marines?”
“Yeah. We’re trained to say beep when they lie to us,” he deadpanned. “Come on. The kiss was not irrelevant.”
“Okay, you’re right,” she said. “Maybe it’s because it seemed entirely too relevant.”
“How so?”
Kate sighed. “If Vivienne Brandt is considering inviting her ex-husband into her television program—into her home, for crying out loud—it’ll complicate things if she knows the producer and her ex played tonsil hockey once upon a time.”
He nodded. “Now there’s an honest answer. A good one, too.”
“So you agree. We probably shouldn’t mention one innocent little kiss?”
Jonah snorted. “I was there, babe. That was no innocent kiss.”
Kate shivered, but ordered herself to keep her composure. “Fine. But now that you’ve seen the numbers, is your interest piqued even a little?”
